


Do Not Go Gentle

by HARDGORE



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Halo 5: Guardians, Halo au, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:22:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HARDGORE/pseuds/HARDGORE
Summary: Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.SPARTAN-IIIs always get the short end of the stick in combat scenarios. Even when assigned to Blue Team, that holds true for Silas-B202, one of the only remaining members of Beta company.





	Do Not Go Gentle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloodletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodletters/gifts).



> My friend has a SPARTAN-III OC that I absolutely adore. We have talked a lot about him, Silas-B202, and what it would be like if he were a character that were actually in the series.
> 
> We decided that he would be assigned to Blue Team.
> 
> This is a gift for my friend, in response to a drabble that he had written of this scene from Silas' PoV.
> 
> Now, here's Kelly's.

Terror: An emotion so foreign that Kelly could scarcely define it, had it not been for the amount of times she’d seen it in the faces of those who’d passed, choking on their own blood – mouths contorted in a silent scream that no-one ever heard as their bodies were blown apart, eviscerated, carved limb from limb, split in two. She had once been bitter acquaintances with terror, but so much had happened since then.

There had been a time where the death of brothers-in-arms was something that she had always noticed, always grieved despite carrying on the mission. It’s not that she no longer grieves, nor does she actively go out of her way to allow soldiers and civilians to die; she has been numbed to the pain of it. Combat efficiency dwindled to next-to-nothing when the mind was pre-occupied on the self rather than the mission at hand, and loss was just something that happened in a war.

At least, that’s what she had to tell herself.

But terror rarely came alone. Before the horror there was usually a panic, a flood of adrenaline to the system that quickened the heart. Many people (and even Special Ops) were susceptible to the effects, their movements and judgements becoming frantic and less calculated as endorphins and hormones flooded their systems. It was by all accounts a dangerous state of being. There were very few things worse than an armed man scared out of his mind. But there were things that are worse – much, _much_ worse.

As she watched Silas float in the air on the edge of a blade – every inch of her being was overcome with sheer horror. She had witnessed countless deaths, obeyed orders to leave friends behind to die or kill themselves, seen soldiers fall with craters in their heads or their torsos torn from their legs. Yet this time, she could not regard her teammate’s anguish with a cool head.

All thoughts of the mission were gone in an instant, replaced only by the image of the young man’s limp body hanging from the Construct’s massive sword.

_This cannot be happening._

Silas-B202 had been an odd attachment to Blue Team. The assignment of a S-III whose record had, for the most part, been blanked out due to years operating as a HEADHUNTER running silent, 2-man operations for ONI, was a novelty. At first Kelly had regarded the kid with a generous amount of scrutiny, not for doubt of his abilities or the fact he could be an asset to the team, but ONI’s motivations for the unheard of assignment. The best that she could figure was that his skills were too good to go to waste running suicide missions.

Instead of gaining just a teammate, Blue Team had assumed the responsibility of mentoring the young man, honing his skills and teamwork.

Kelly regarded him as a son.

Silas was _not_ her son; this much was obvious both in their relationship and in their work. But just the same, she found herself caring for him during the rare moments they had layover: Tucking him into bed, making sure that he ate properly, handing him the equipment he needed for a coming mission before he even thought about requiring it.

She could not tear her eyes from him.

A pathetic, wet whine emanated from his throat, weak and anguished. Just with that, the Warden retracted its blade and the III’s body clattered to the ground from three metres, his armour clanging loudly against the metal floor beneath them.

She could barely make out the sound of him gasping through the audio filtered into her helmet, and then he went silent and motionless.

The realisation that she had screamed for him in her fear only struck when she had stopped. Her throat ached from the force of her voice. Fear-paralysis had narrowed her vision as well, but her line of sight began to dilate so that his crumpled form and the pool of blood beneath him was not the only thing she could see.

All at once terror loosed its grip on her body, and in turn she relieved Oathsworn from its magnetic moor on her back. Without a split second's thought, she launched forward at incredible speed, leaving the rest of Blue Team to her back. They would cover her, she knew.

“ _Kelly_!” John’s concerned voice rang in her ears over TEAMCOM, but she shut down the transmission.

She would never leave another one of Blue behind; never one of her SPARTANs -

– **_Never_** Silas.

When Kelly made up her mind about something, it was an exercise in futility to attempt to change it; she was quick-witted enough and so swift of foot that once she’d begun something, it was already too late. John knew this, watching her sprint across the floor at speeds so fast that he genuinely wondered how much of it was the MJOLNIR and how much of it was just her. But there was no time to contemplate that, not when the youngest member of his squad was a casualty and she had engaged in retrieval action. He raised the barrel of his MA5B assault rifle and began cover fire, Fred and Linda bearing arms and throwing bullets as quickly as they could. All three of the remaining members of Blue had begun firing within milliseconds of each other, their training and years of experience shining through.

They achieved the desired effect, drawing the attention and ire of the massive Promethean AI construct that lunged towards them.

The three of them dove in different directions with less than a second’s delay in their assault as the Team dedicated itself to eliminating the hostile that had almost surely killed one of their own in front of them.

Kelly had reached Silas’s side moments earlier, eyeing the massive, oblong hole in the IIIs midsection that wept blood and torn sinew. She had done her best in the paltry time that Fred, John, and Linda could buy her, freeing a cannister of biofoam from her side, jamming it into the gaping wound, and depressing the trigger until the can was empty and his torso was full.

There was nothing more she could do for him besides move him out of the way. She picked his body up as gently as she could afford; the knowledge that he was definitely unconscious – and most likely dead – did nothing to ease the guilt that solidified in her gut as she slung him over her shoulder. Kelly then opened up TEAMCOM. “I have him, now let’s get him to a medic.”

“Good plan,” Fred replied, “any idea how we’re going to get out of this mess now?”

“Shoot it until it dies.”

Fred chuckled, the sound strained. He was playing it cool, but Kelly knew that he was just as concerned for the kid draped over her shoulder as she was. This was not easy – not for any of them. John slid to the side as the Warden once again brandished its massive sword and tried to dislocate his head from his shoulders.

A quick trio of bullets from an M99 sniper rifle pierced through the giant’s head.

John and Fred both took quick advantage of its diverted attention. Kelly observed the ongoing battle as she retreated with the wounded SPARTAN, watching as John used the thrusters on his back to quickly jet forward, only to fall onto his back and let the momentum carry him beneath the behemoth, shooting directly up its body and straight into its core. Fred took position on its left flank and opened fire into its heart while Linda continued to send round after round into its head.

As it turned out, they hadn’t needed to plot an escape plan as the orange glow from within the body of the Warden faded, and each floating piece that had been suspended by the energy field fell to the ground. Whether they had neutralised the target or it had transferred to a new body was unknown and inconsequential at the moment.

Silas was still motionless and silent, but the blood that stained her armour and dripped from his body was only the coagulated excess that had painted his armour before she had retrieved him. That was good in that it meant that Kelly had successfully sealed the wound, but that was _all_ she had done.

The other three members jogged to her location, where she had ducked for cover behind a pillar.

John used his external speakers. “How is he?”

Kelly swallowed the lump in her throat. “I plugged it with biofoam. The blade missed his spine, but..” she trailed off unnaturally. John nodded, understanding what Kelly preferred to leave unsaid. Fred stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder.

To say that none of them had been prepared for this eventuality was a lie.

To say that any of them liked it was another.

“We better get him to that medic.” Linda said, her voice crackling over her speakers. 

* * *

Saying that it was a miracle that Silas survived his encounter with the Warden was an understatement.

He had been clinically dead for long enough that reviving him had seemed impossible. Too little, too late.

It had taken some time, a lot of work, and Blue Team putting their faith in the medical crew, the makeshift tent, and tangled array of equipment that the young SPARTAN could be saved. The medical team's preliminary efforts had appeared to work, but results had been uncertain for a while.

It broke Kelly's heart.

Suddenly Silas's vitals began rising on the displays, and the entire tent released a collective sigh of relief. Whatever had urged the return of his heartbeat, none of them were sure that they particularly cared. All that mattered was that he was alive.

That had been close. Too close.

Kelly let out a breath that, if she hadn’t known better, she’d have said she’d been holding in since the moment the Warden’s blade had pierced through Silas’ armour. Maybe she really _had_ been holding her breath, in a metaphorical sense. His loss would have had no small impact on her emotionally, and she was well aware of that. She couldn't help but cradle the wounded man to her chest as he slept.

That simple contact brought a small amount of comfort. She couldn’t quite feel him, as she was still in her full kit, but she could see that he was breathing. John and Fred hovered close and quiet, the both of their gazes locked on Kelly and Silas.

Normally she could read John’s body language well and knew what he was thinking before even he did; but right now, she couldn’t tell who he was looking at more - her, or Silas. The suspicion that he was somewhat more concerned for her nagged at the back of her mind. That would be insane. _She_ was not the one that had been turned into a human kebab.

“I’m alright,” she finally said, locking eyes with John. He didn’t reply, but nodded. Acknowledgement. That meant that he didn’t buy her assurances – he rarely did, but that was because he cared. “Really. I’m fine.”

With that she set Silas back down on the ground and stood, joining Linda in the back. It was more to make a point to John and Fred than anything. They _knew_ how she felt about Silas, how that fondness for him was different from the affection she had for either of them. They knew, but neither of them said anything, only stepped out of the way to grant her passage.

* * *

“Look.” Fred’s voice rang out with that single word, a single syllable.

That made Kelly slam her jaw closed with considerably more force than was necessary, her teeth aching with anxiety as all of her attention diverted from the metal-speckled landscape to the man that seemed so small in the middle of the makeshift tent.

Silas’s eyes slowly opened.

She could scarcely believe it. And neither could the rest of Blue Team, if their silence counted for anything. John’s shoulders visibly wilted as if a great weight had been relieved from them, and Fred sucked in a breath. Linda stood to Kelly’s right, the impossible green of her eyes piercing as she too stared at Silas.

Kelly darted forward past her comrades and immediately knelt at the III’s side, all manner of emotions she couldn’t name swirling within her gut.

_He’s alive. He’s really alive._

She reached down and gingerly took his face into her hands, thumbs bracing his cheeks and swiping below his eyes. Silas was alive, really, truly alive, and the recognition that lit in his eyes when he had seen her face confirmed that he hadn’t sustained any lasting brain damage, which was a certain – if miniscule – relief in the wake of everything.

She watched in silence as his arm stirred, and rose to her face, tensing as he gripped her cheek as best he could with the little strength left in his body, and swiped his thumb over her lips in a SPARTAN smile. It was a gesture that the IIs had come up with what seemed eons ago to convey their happiness while encased in their armour amongst themselves. It was a sign that was known only to the five people in the dusty tent – and many, many others who had long been committed to the stars. It made the heart Kelly had almost forgotten she had clench in her chest. For a brief moment, she felt the urge to cry.

Tightening her grip on his cheeks, she took a moment to process everything once again, before mirroring the gesture he had learned from them on his own lips. _He was one of them._ She had told him that once, but now it was obviously true.

Kelly shifted slowly, pulling him back into her arms, placing his head on her chest. Silas shifted slightly, which was probably the best that he could muster, to get comfortable against her. Wordlessly the rest of the team approached. Fred knelt next to Kelly and placed a hand on Silas’s thigh, while John flanked on the other side. He did not kneel, but as Kelly glanced up through her eyelashes at her life-long friend, she saw in his eyes everything that she was feeling: _Relief_. Concern. Linda brought up the rear, as she often did, but her owlish gaze softened as she looked down at the boy cradled between three of the most dangerous and effective weapons in the galaxy, and smiled faintly. It was enough.

They were family.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted the unedited version first by mistake. This is now the correct version.


End file.
